The Phantom of the Race Track
by Erik's Shadow
Summary: Okay okay.. COMPLETE insanity. Erik and Raoul settle things the manly way - IMPORT CAR RACING! R/R PLEEEEAASSE


Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom… I only pretend to. I do own the Phantom Civic, though. Well, minus all the go-fast goodies, that is.  
  
Erik crossed his arms and absently tapped his fingers against his arm.  
  
"Well?" He eyed Christine menacingly. His ruined face creased with anger.  
  
Christine sighed helplessly and looked from Raoul to Erik, then Erik to Raoul.  
  
"I… I just don't know. If I choose Raoul, I'll never want for anything material. He would give me anything my heart desires and I'll be financially secure for the rest of my life."  
  
Raoul beamed with pride in the noose. Erik rolled his eyes, not impressed.  
  
"But…" Raoul's grin faded away. "If I choose Erik I'll never want for anything emotional. He would give me all my heart SECRETLY desires. And I'll be emotionally secure for the rest of my life.  
  
"HA!" Erik shouted. "Score for the Phantom! Ten points!" He paused. "How is this a difficult decision?"  
  
"Well. Have you seen Raoul's bank accounts?" Again Erik rolled his eyes. And again, Raoul beamed with pride.  
  
"Score for the Vicomte! Ten- "  
  
"Shut up, noose boy!" Erik scowled. "Hello... Christine. I'm not poor. I'm very financially well off. Remember… 20,000 francs a month, 240,000 francs a year. No taxes."  
  
Raoul made a scoffing noise.  
  
"What's THAT about, fop?"  
  
"You make it sound like that's a lot. 20,000 francs is the equivalent of 2,669.12 American dollars. So that's only-" He paused. "$32,033.04 a year. That's SO not a lot of money."  
  
Erik and Christine glanced at each other. Then burst out laughing.  
  
"What? What's so funny?"  
  
"Raoul, it's 1881, so… yeah that IS a lot of money. And we live in France, NOT America." Erik stated mockingly. He looked at Christine, pleadingly. "What do you see in him?"  
  
"But… but she told me to say that. She said-" Glanced up in the direction of the author. "Hey! NOT FUNNY!" He whimpered and tugged at the noose. "Why do they hate me so?"  
  
"Enough! Can we please get back to the task at hand?"  
  
"Alright, alright.. Well... what if there was a contest."  
  
"A contest?" Raoul and Erik muttered simultaneously.  
  
"Yes… you know… winner takes all. If you get my drift."  
  
"Anything!" Erik exclaimed proudly.  
  
"Yes! Anything!" Raoul and Erik eyed each other and growled.  
  
"Well… how about: IMPORT CAR RACING!"  
  
"WHAT!?" Raoul and Erik shout simultaneously.  
  
"We have to stop that." Erik sneered. "Uh. Small detail. Again, it's 1881 – Cars haven't-"  
  
"Author! Erik's misbehaving!"  
  
"Come on now, Erik… it's my story… just go along with it.. POOF THERE ARE NOW CARS IN 1881!" The author exclaimed.  
  
"Wow! What a neat trick!" Raoul attempted to bounce up and down, but realized that is NOT such a great idea while being hung.  
  
  
  
"Now, Erik. You'll have to cut him down for this." Erik looked pleadingly at Christine as she said this.  
  
"Awww. Fine." He stalked over to Raoul and cut him down. Grinning as he landed with a loud THUD.  
  
"Ow!  
  
"Now… to the garage!" Christine exclaimed with a grin on her face and her finger pointed in the air.  
  
"I have a garage?" Erik questioned, half to himself, half to the author. He picked up his mask and put it back on heading toward the direction of his new garage.  
  
"Ya do now!" The author boasted.  
  
Christine threw open the door and inside there were two cars. One of them was a Black Honda Civic, Si. Complete with red interior accents, body kit, 17" white rims, a three-piece spoiler and limo style tinted windows all the way around. Erik eyed this car right away. He noticed the license plate: PHANTOM.  
  
"Gee… who saw that coming?" He rolled his eyes and Raoul and Christine raised their hands.  
  
To the left of the "Phantom Civic" was a Toyota Celica. Silver, 18" chrome rims, those annoying windshield washer LED light things, no body kit, with the license plate: FOP.  
  
"Now what?" Raoul questioned, a blank look implanted on his flawless face  
  
"Get in!" Christine grinned, throwing her hands in the air.  
  
"You're having way to much fun with this." Erik muttered. He paused. He stalked over to the garage door. He turned and faced Christine who has followed him. He posed, his arms rising slowly, and with them, the garage door as well. He stopped half way and the door stopped. He grasped on to the garage door handles and stretched against them, never taking his eyes off Christine. Christine bit her lip as she gazed at him.  
  
"Mmm. You are SO good at that, Erik!"  
  
Erik grinned then continued raising his arms so the garage door would finish opening. Raoul gave him the evil eye as he walked back over to the cars. Erik just gave him a smug grin. They then turn and gazed out of the garage. Amazingly enough, a mile long track has been built underneath the Opera House. Erik glanced up.  
  
"You're kind of handy to have around. Do you do windows?"  
  
"NO!" The author bellowed.  
  
"Damn." Erik snapped his fingers.  
  
"Alright! Get in!" Christine jumped up and down excitedly.  
  
Erik and Raoul got in the cars. Each of them noticed a helmet on the seat beside them. Erik placed his helmet on and strapped the safety belt around him. He placed the key in the ignition and started the Civic up. A massive rumble of the exhaust system was heard.  
  
"Oooo." Erik exclaimed excitedly, and wiggled his fingers over the steering wheel. He glanced around the cockpit of the car. He noticed separate gauges for the turbo system and a switch for the Nitrous Oxide system.  
  
Raoul paused a moment, thinking to himself the helmet may mess up his hair.  
  
"I want to look good going across the finish line!" So he chucked the helmet out of the car. He strapped himself in and noticed a gauge for the supercharger.  
  
"Neat-o." He started the engine, and a more massive exhaust bellow is heard. "HA!"  
  
"Doesn't prove anything, Fop!" Erik revved his engine. Raoul did the same.  
  
"Save it for the track, boys!"  
  
They put their cars into gear, and drove up to the starting line. Christine walked up in between the two cars, grasping a wedding veil. She raised it above her head, and then brought it down. A massive screeching of tires was heard. Erik shifted into first and the car screamed under his control. He glanced to his left and there was Raoul, eyeing him. They shifted into second… then third… then fourth… They stayed nose and nose for the first ¾ of the mile. Suddenly. Erik flipped the NOS switch and the Civic screamed into first, leaving Raoul in his rearview mirror. Erik flew over the finish line, slammed on his breaks while turning his wheel, turning the car 360o to face the track again. He shifted into gear again, flying past Raoul. He approached the starting line and brought the car to a halt right before Christine.  
  
A moment later, the beaten Vicomte caught up and pulled up next to him. They got out of the cars and Christine embraced the winner.  
  
"So I guess I go with you." Christine smiled and reached up to kiss Erik.  
  
"Hang on, just a second. That was fabulous! RAOUL! You want to do that again!?"  
  
"YEAH!"  
  
"But… wait… I…"  
  
They high-fived one another then jumped into their cars and proceeded to race down the track again, over and over. Christine just sighed and sat down on a nearby bench and mumbled.  
  
"Great idea Christine…" She shook her head. "Boys and their toys."  
  
  
  
~Fin  
  
  
  
AN: Girls and their toys, too Christine… imports rule! 


End file.
